Truly the Angel's Best
by boldlikeblack
Summary: An explaination of why Cas booked it so fast.  Dean gets a reward for a job well done.   Second in the Stageverse.


**A/N: This is set in the same universe as 'All the World's a Stage', but it's more cheerful. I thought Dean could use a little cheering up. This is shaping up to be a series of oneshots that will feature Sam/Becky, Dean/Lisa (I know, I know, put the pitchforks down would ya?), Dean/Cas and possibly randoms here and there. Let me know what you think.**

_**BBB**_

Dean stared at the faded, peeling striped paper adorning the wall of yet another shitty motel room. It might have been a trick of the light, or possibly the whiskey he was drinking down like water, but he was fairly certain the damn paper was mocking him. It wasn't even really anything specific, the paper just seemed to say '_you averted the apocalypse but you're still just a sad, lonely drunk_' and '_your brothers are dead and your friends abandoned you...even though you saved the world,_' and even '_you're all alone, getting wasted in a hotel room, way to turn into your father._'

Needless to say that the wallpaper deserved what was coming to it. At least, that was how Dean justified lobbing one of the two motel glasses at it. There was something truly satisfying about the noise it made shattering against the wall. Unfortunately, the smash covered up the familiar noise of wings flapping in the breeze, so Dean nearly had a heart attack when Cas appeared in the shadows of the room.

"Hello Dean," the angel said simply.

Dean tipped his head back against the headboard and gave Cas a long look. He was still pissed that, after everything they'd been through, Cas had left without so much as goodbye, but he was drunk enough to set it aside for the moment. "Hey buddy, how's Heaven treatin' you?" Dean slurred.

"You're drunk," Cas stated, adjusting something in his arms.

Dean folded his hands behind his head and grinned sloppily. "We saved the world," Dean said, "I'm celebrating. I'd ask you to join me, but I don't think booze would do anything for you. Least not now that you're all Super-Cas."

"Dean..." Cas began.

Dean scowled at him, a little of his anger and bitterness seeping through the haze. "What do I owe this honour then? I thought you'd be too busy kicking ass and taking names upstairs to spare me a second thought."

Cas sighed and shifted his arms again. "You're drunk," he repeated, "so I will have to return later."

The force of Dean's rage surprised him, overpowering his inebriation to let him leap from the bed and grab the angel by the sleeve. "Don't you dare walk out on me again," Dean hissed dangerously.

Then there was a flash of light and Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed, sober as a judge. Cas walked forward, into the moonlight from the window and their eyes locked. For a minute, Dean thought he saw a flash of...something...in Cas's gaze; the same something that had been there when Cas was laying into him in the alley when Dean nearly gave in, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

"I am sorry for my abrupt departure earlier, but there was a task that I had to complete in a very small window of time. I had intended to return to...properly bid you farewell. I suppose I should have explained that," Cas said, pacing.

Dean's chest began to ache and he felt drained. "Why are you here, Cas? To say goodbye? Cuz I don't really wanna hear it, not today."

Cas looked pained and stared down at the bundle in his arms. "I know what you've lost, Dean, and it is not my intention to cause you more pain. I came to give you a reward, of sorts," he said quietly.

Dean snorted. "Like a gold star and a pat on the back for a job well done? I think I'll pass."

"This is a gift from my Father, Dean. Try not to be so flippant," Cas bit out.

At the exact moment Dean opened his mouth to tell Cas exactly where to put his father's gift, the bundle in Cas's arms began to wail. Dean's jaw went slack as the bundle's...the baby's...high pitched cry filled every corner of the room. To his surprise, Cas began pacing back and forth, jiggling the baby up and down, making gentle shushing noises.

Dean couldn't quite wrap his head around what was happening. "Is that a baby?" he asked in disbelief.

Cas glared at him sharply. "No, it's a wailing bug beast from the Horsehead Nebula," he deadpanned.

"Did you just make a joke?" Dean asked.

Cas's second vicious glared silenced him. "This is a baby, yes, and she is a gift to you from my Father," he explained.

"I have to say, Cas, I'm confused," Dean admitted.

The child's cries ceased as Cas came to a standstill and sighed. "It is not secret that you value your family above all else, Dean. I know nothing can replace what has been lost to you, but my Father has seen fit to give you the chance to rebuild."

"With a baby?" Dean asked incredulously.

"With a daughter, Dean," Cas replied.

"That's not possible,' Dean said, shaking his head.

The moonlight shone across Cas's face and Dean noticed how weary the angel looked. "She is the flesh of your flesh and blood of your blood, Dean," Cas said, "I know this to be fact."

"How?" Dean asked, still not believing.

Cas looked down at his feet for a moment and then focused his eyes on the child in his arms. "She is made from you. When I healed you earlier...I was instructed to take a small part of your genetic structure in order to build a body that would hold a very special soul. That is how."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Special soul?" he growled, standing quickly.

Cas's eyes never left the child as he continued. "My Father has learned many things from the apocalypse, Dean, but the glaring example that stands out is that, despite His will, His angels hold no great love for their human brethren. Most of the Host view humans as mud monkeys, barely better than the primates that live in your zoos. There are exceptions to this view, like me and Anna and Gabriel, who...love...and...appreciate...humanity for all its flawed beauty because we have walked among them and experienced what it is like to live as they live."

"Get to the point Cas," Dean urged.

Cas's eyes were startlingly luminescent when he met Dean's angry gaze. "She is special, Dean, because she is the only human being in existence to have an angel's soul. She will grow, dream, love, live and die as a human, but upon the end of her mortal life, she will join the Host in Heaven as one of our own."

Dean dropped back down onto the bed and ran a hand through his hair. "So let me get this straight; God wants me, Dean Winchester, to be the father of Heaven's last great hope for angelic redemption?"

"You are her father, Dean," Cas replied simply.

"Because Sam turned out so well when I was responsible for him," Dean scoffed.

Dean was surprised when Cas sat down next to him on the bed. "Sam was loyal, strong, smart and selfless, Dean."

"He was a demon-blood addict who was the vessel for the freakin' Devil, Cas," Dean said brokenly.

"Neither of those things was something that you could have changed, Dean. That was his destiny, but he defied it and saved the world because **that** was who you raised him to be," Cas replied honestly.

Dean sighed and ran his hand through his hair again. "Is she going to have powers?" Dean asked.

"I'm not sure. Joshua wasn't exceptionally clear on that aspect. I think that they may develop as she grows, but I don't think she will grow to be any stronger than I was when I was cut off from the Host."

"She's really my daughter?"

"As much as any child can be, Dean. Would you like to hold her?"

Dean nodded and held out his arms. Cas, to Dean's surprise, pressed a kiss to the child's forehead before placing her in Dean's waiting arms. She was lighter than Dean expected and Dean had to shift around carefully before he found a comfortable position.

"Cas," he asked, "do you think you could turn on the light? I...uh...I want to see her."

"Of course, Dean," Cas said as light filled the room.

Dean took one look at the little girl and, though he claimed to be a hard-ass who despised chick-flick moments, fell completely and totally in love. She had a head full of sandy hair and tiny dark eyelashes. Dean was astounded by the perfectly formed fingernails on her little hand where it was clutching at the white blanket she was wrapped in.

"She's got Sammy's nose," Dean whispered in awe.

"Your father's, actually," Cas replied.

"She's perfect," Dean said.

"I tried my best," Cas answered in return.

"You made her?" Dean said, staring at the angel beside him.

Cas's mouth turned up into a half smile as he looked down on the child. "It was easier than rebuilding you," he said.

"Cas...I...uh..." Dean stammered. He'd had no idea that Cas was the one to put him back together. He'd always thought that dick with wings, Zachariah, had done it.

Cas merely shrugged and ran his fingers across the little girl's forehead. "What are you going to call her?" he asked.

He considered Mary at first, but that was a little too biblical for his taste. Samantha was too much to even consider and she certainly didn't look like a Jo or a Lisa. He toyed with Cassandra, as a nod to the angel standing next to him, but there was too much history in that name. As he rolled the possibilities around in his mind, Dean stared at the child for a long moment. When the name came to him, it was perfect. He paused to stare at his daughter in awe before looking up at Cas with a dopey smile on his face. "Jude," he said, "I'm going to call her Jude."

He was surprised when Cas started to laugh. Dean wasn't sure he'd ever actually heard Cas laugh. "Only you would name your child after the patron saint of desperate and lost causes," Cas said through his laughter.

The irony of his choice was not lost on Dean and he joined in Cas's laughter, trying his best not to jostle the child too much. "Team Free Will could use a morale boost," Dean wheezed.

Cas sighed and stood. He walked to the desk and placed something down on it before turning to face Dean. "You're leavin' again?" Dean asked quietly.

"As much as I want to stay," Cas said, smiling sadly, "there is work for me in Heaven."

Dean stood and walked to the window. "Think you'll be back at all?" he asked, facing away from Cas.

"I believe so," Cas replied.

Dean nodded, still looking out the window. When he turned, he expected to find Cas gone, but the angel was still standing in the middle of the room, looking pensive.

"Everything okay, Cas?" he asked.

"There are things you should know..." Cas said, shifting from foot to foot.

"Like?" Dean prompted.

"All of the necessary documentation is in the folder on the desk. She was born at 9:31 pm, central time, on May 13, 2010. Her birthplace is listed as Lawrence, Kansas. I erased all your criminal records and the record of your death, so that you can raise her and support her under your real name. I chose Ellen as her middle name, because Ellen was kind to me; but if you don't like it, I can change it. She has a small birthmark behind her right ear and she likes it when you sing to her," Cas blurted out, far from his usual collected self.

"Ellen would be honoured," Dean replied.

Cas's mouth turned up into a half smile once again before he looked down and held his arms out. "Can I say goodbye?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," Dean said, carefully placing Jude in Cas's arms, "of course."

Cas rocked Jude gently for a long moment, whispering quietly in what Dean assumed was Enochian. The angel brushed his fingers across the sleeping child's cheek and pressed another kiss to her forehead. "Goodbye Jude," Dean heard him whisper; "Angels are watching over you."

Cas passed Jude back to Dean, smiling sadly. "So I guess I'll see you around then?" Dean asked.

Cas nodded. "I will visit when I can," he replied.

"Out of curiosity," Dean wondered, "what would you have done if I'd refused to take her?"

"I knew that would never happen," Cas stated.

Dean was taken aback at Cas's renewed faith in him. "But if it had?" he asked.

Cas's expression turned thoughtful. "I suppose Joshua would have instructed me to find a family for her."

Dean nodded. "Good luck with your family Cas," he said.

"I am going to need it," Cas replied.

Then he was gone and Dean was standing alone in a hotel room with his daughter, wondering what the hell he was going to do next.

"Well kid," he said, staring down into Jude's tiny face with a nervous smile, "looks like it's just you and me."

Jude looked up at him with big blue eyes and he could swear she even smiled back.

_**BBB**_

Dean closed the door of the Impala as quietly as he could, shifting Jude around onto his hip. She was asleep for the moment, but her sleeping habits were a little unpredictable. He hoped she wouldn't wake up before he had time to get inside and warm up a bottle for her.

By the time he made it to the top of the steps and rang the doorbell, the diaper back was slipping off his shoulder and Jude had left a puddle of drool down the front of his jacket. Dean was thankful he'd chosen a lighter jacket over his customary leather one, but it was still embarrassing.

The door swung open and Dean smiled tiredly. "Hey Lisa;" he said, "can I still take you up on that beer?"


End file.
